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Literature Text
One of the most important things is to know when to listen, not only to others, but to the Earth, to the Universe. We're all constantly communicating, via our actions, our thoughts, our dreams, our energy.–– it's pulsating around us like a constant breeze and it deserves the silence we constantly murder, with our ever so blatant need to be heard.
The moon has seen billions of years, and it's still lost every morning.
The audacity of wanting to know it all, when the sun still questions itself at night.
The arrogance of coming to "factual" conclusions, when the stars engulf themselves with doubt.
One of the most important things, is to know how little you know, to be humbled by the extraordinary realm in which we live, and acknowledge we'll never understand it all, to surrender to it's will. All we can control–– is how we react to life, and the best way to react, is not to.
© Rocio Belinda Mendez
The moon has seen billions of years, and it's still lost every morning.
The audacity of wanting to know it all, when the sun still questions itself at night.
The arrogance of coming to "factual" conclusions, when the stars engulf themselves with doubt.
One of the most important things, is to know how little you know, to be humbled by the extraordinary realm in which we live, and acknowledge we'll never understand it all, to surrender to it's will. All we can control–– is how we react to life, and the best way to react, is not to.
© Rocio Belinda Mendez
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The World's Greatest Actor
The World’s Greatest Actor, now a father, prepared lunch for his three children. Humming to himself happily, he slathered pieces of bread with peanut butter and jelly. He put them each into individual plastic containers, then the containers into brightly coloured cloth bags along with plums and juice boxes. He wanted to make sure they ate healthy but enjoyed what they ate. He was rewarded with their smiles when his three children came running in. An elder girl in grade two, followed by a twin boy and girl who were in kindergarten, greeted him. He said good morning and picked them all up in a bear hug, kissing them each on the forehead.
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I Hate The Hospital
and my god, the stratospheric possibility. the mouth of my nightmares caught in the body of a breathing corpse. a stranger hoarding his face - statuesque and emotionless.
coughing. coughing and choking, tubes. the constant leak of oxygen. tubes and tubes and tubes, invading the vital organs. siphoning life through hollowed-plastic.
the truth is a gruesome comparison.
and I am gutless.
Literature
Truth Be Told
My poems say
Everything
My lips
Are unable to.
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© 2013 - 2024 rociobelindamendez
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